(just a clarifying note; this takes place near the end of year six. the next chapter will take place during year seven!)

the months go by, the harsh winter now long gone and replaced by april showers and the joy of spring; during this time, yoongi keeps his feelings to himself. maybe it’s a bit pathetic, going from disliking someone so wholly, only to find that he can’t get his mind off of a certain lovely hufflepuff, but he digresses. the only ears that yoongi has indulged with his secret belong to namjoon and nina, the kind house elf who never fails to give him any of the leftover pastries from the kitchen. she’s a godsend, truly, with her nonjudgmental ways and never ending words of advice and encouragement.

“to burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves,” she counsels, her statements always so profound in such a way that makes yoongi puzzle over why she works in hogwart’s dingy, old kitchen instead of speaking at some renowned literary institution. she’s unbelievably smart, and not one to be underestimated. yoongi is always grateful to nina for simply being herself; motherly, but not overbearing, giving him the kind of familial affection that he never truly experienced.

currently, yoongi is in divination class. the attic-like room in the the north tower has a sweet aroma of lavender incense and chai tea, a calming aura settling over yoongi as soon as he climbs through the trapdoor to enter. he’s pretty sure that there are protective enchantments cast upon the room to keep negative energy (and peeves, the local poltergeist with a bad sense of humor and a hobby of destroying things) from swarming the space.

hoseok is late to class, his shoes a bit muddy and his fingertips stained an emerald color. he had undoubtedly lost track of time in the greenhouse, yet again. he's there all the time, something about how 'the flutterby bush is actually blooming! it only does that once every one hundred years, and i'm here for it. how amazing is that?'

yoongi tries not to think of how endearing hoseok's unrelenting passion for herbology is. (he also avoids looking at the blades of grass that stick out from the brunet's head like adorable little green calicks, because it's honestly too much for yoongi to handle.)

hoseok musses his fingers through his hair, shaking out any plant matter and sending the professor an apologetic smile. he finds his usual spot next to yoongi, and whispers that he's sorry for being late, but the flutterby is doing so well and the mandrakes were being extra cranky today, he couldn't bring himself to leave. yoongi shrugs, silently replying that it's perfectly fine.

apparently, today's lesson is on tasseomancy; the art of reading tea leaves. hoseok groans and grumbles, because divination is a waste of time and effort. it's all superstition designed and manipulated by ourselves to convince ourselves that there is some kind of 'greater power' or design, or some other type of excuse to help us escape from unforeseen consequences that we bring onto ourselves, or so he believes. yoongi is displeased by the lesson for an entirely different, less existential reason- he doesn't want to see what's in his leaves, or rather, what the universe predicts and implicates for him. that's scary on a literal cosmic scale, and it's an anxiety that he wants to leave for another time, such as never.

the professor, madam lavellan, is waltzing around the class in her flowy, abstract clothing, her long unruly hair swaying with every elegant movement. she stops at each partnership to observe and comment on their technique, giving praise and advice.

once she drops by yoongi and hoseok's table, her pleasant smile droops. the slytherin is taking a nap, and the hufflepuff is placing flower petals in the sleeping one’s hair. a rather beautiful bouquet of chrysanthemums had been casted from the younger’s wand, the whisper of ‘orchideous’ indecipherable in junction with the clamor of other students. the professor plants her palms loudly on the table, startling yoongi awake with a gasp at the loud, sudden movement. hoseok snickers at the elder’s reaction, but he quickly stops once he notices the death glare he's receiving from both yoongi and the divination professor. ouch.

“are either of you even trying to read the leaves?”

both of them shrug apathetically.

“we at this,” yoongi admits.

“it doesn't even make sense,” hoseok mutters under his breath.

the professor crosses her arms, looking at the two students disapprovingly.

“i’ll read your leaves for you, and next class i expect both of you to work, or else you can say goodbye to hogsmeade.”

the teens gulp at the threat of their free time being taken away.

madam lavellan pulls a chair over to their table and sits down gracefully, sliding on her round glasses and peering inquisitively at both of their teacups.

she picks up hoseok’s first, swirling the lukewarm mix of leaves and leftover water thrice in a counterclockwise motion, before carefully placing it back on the table. she points the porcelain handle in the hufflepuff’s direction, and concentrates. she shifts her head often, craning her neck to see from different perspectives and moving her lips as she silently describes what she finds within the leaves.

she nods her head when she’s done, her poker face revealing nothing from the reading. the same process is repeated upon yoongi’s leaves, but this time her actions seem more...delayed. her eyes narrow as she focuses, and lines of confusion etch themselves into the space between her eyebrows.

when the reading is over, she gives the slytherin a strange, inquisitive look.

“i genuinely hope things go well for you, mr. min.”

yoongi tilts his head in question, but the professor gives no answers.

“alright. i’ll jot down what i saw in each of your leaves, and you will research and describe the symbolism of your reading. at least with that, i’ll have something to grade you two on other than napping and floral decorating. the bouquet is lovely, by the way.”

at the mention of the blossoms, several pink and white chrysanthemum petals cascade from yoongi’s head to the ground and table. the slytherin picks up one in amusement, and once the professor leaves their table, he grabs a handful and throws them in hoseok’s face. the younger splutters and laughs, shaking the florets from his hair and brushing them off his shoulders. he misses one caught in the space between his shirt collar and throat, and yoongi gently plucks it away. the action is sweet, so entirely unlike yoongi that hoseok has to take a moment to comprehend the sudden lapse in the ‘i will never initiate skinship’ persona of yoongi.

as if the universe was sensing the quickly approaching awkward tension, the chime of class ending sounds, startling the two out of whatever daze they were in together.

yoongi lets his apathy consume him, and hoseok remains blissfully unaware.

>>>

the next day, yoongi is sitting in the library with one whiny best friend, trying his hardest to stay awake. he doesn’t know when he became someone inclined to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, but it’s who he is now, and it .

a guide to tasseomancy sits between them, open to the section about deciphering images found in one’s leaves.  yoongi and hoseok have their lists in front of them, looking them over only to be more confused.

“wow. all of that looking, and she only saw a comb,” hoseok mutters sarcastically.

“a comb? seriously?” yoongi repeats dubiously.

“yep. that's all she wrote on my paper. that's just...dull. that’s gotta mean something boring,” hoseok whines.

yoongi glances down to his own list of symbolism, the page teeming with images. why does he have so many compared to hoseok?

“huh. what does it mean?” he implores.

“um,” hoseok thumbs through the guide, pointing at the meaning when he finds it,”oh. naïevty about a situation involving another person. wonder what that's about.”

you don't know that you look incredibly adorable right now, and that's pretty obvious.

“maybe its that weird tension with me and moonbyul? she seems mad at me all the time nowadays.”

or maybe it's because you're too oblivious to see that everyone, including me, literally adores you.

“this is such a waste of time. anyway, what are yours?”

“uh- a candle, fan, hourglass, and a rabbit,” yoongi lists off boredly.

“why do you have so many? unfair,” hoseok pouts as he scans the book for the meanings.

it's much more beguiling than it should be, the way his lower lip juts out ever so slightly and his eyebrows furrow. a pouting, whiny teenager should be cause for suspicion, not whirling butterflies in one’s gut. that's dangerous.

“alright so, in order; help in an unexpected manner, romance, a decision needs to be made, and a need to be courageous. that's a lot of , yoongi,” hoseok says, gasping as he comes to his own realization.

“wait- oh my god, the cosmos are literally telling you to go bang someone,” hoseok cackles, gesturing suggestively and nearly falling out of his chair from the force of his laughter. yoongi watches in utter mortification, with a pink flush on his cheeks and terrible, terrible thoughts flooding his brain. the librarian kicks them out, snatching the book and glaring disapprovingly at them form under her glasses.

the cosmos are actually conspiring against him, yoongi concedes, because after the tea reading fiasco (at least in his opinion,) hoseok never fails to about ‘the universe setting him up’ or something to that point, and usually much more erted.

madam lavellan tells hoseok that it's definitely not a ual connotation; a fan in one’s leaves points to love, admiration, not pure physical attraction. at this, hoseok just laughs more, much to yoongi’s chagrin and embarrassment.

“oh, okay. so the cosmos are actually telling you to put on your big boy pants and ask someone out. that might be even more hilarious than what i originally thought,” hoseok corrects himself, finding an endless source of amusement in yoongi’s reading as well as his reaction; a flustered min yoongi is so comical, it’s priceless. it’s also more rare than mimbulus membletonia, so hoseok makes sure to use the trope for all it’s worth.

yoongi hates how impervious hoseok is sometimes.

that someone is you, .